


Tumblr ficlets

by un_petit_peu_de_moi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Barcelona, M/M, Short Fics, proper warnings for each chapters, short summary in chapters' titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:18:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 13,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/un_petit_peu_de_moi/pseuds/un_petit_peu_de_moi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories written for tumblr.</p><p>story 18 : Neymar offers Leo a massage<br/>story 19 : Neymar just wants an answer, before this all comes to an end.<br/>story 20 : Neymar fucks up big time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lionel Messi/Neymar - random smut

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm sorry if anyone thought I was updating a new story for I am not. Those are just stories I wrote on tumblr, and I figured I might as well post them here too. Though, if anyone is curious, I am currently writing a new fic that I hope to finish soon.  
> Oh also, maybe this makes more sense if I actually give a link to my tumblr, which is [here](http://the-fuckboy-dynasty.tumblr.com/) (though fair warning, this isn't a fanfiction blog and I don't write ficlets very often).
> 
> anyway this chapter is rated E, it's just smut.

It’s a bit hot, and despite Leo fucking him slowly Neymar sweats profusely. His bangs stick to his forehead, and the pillow behind his head feels like a cocoon of heat.

Leo doesn’t seem better off. Neymar’s legs slid off of his shoulders because of the layer of sweat on Leo’s body, and they now rest in the crook of Leo’s elbows. Leo breathes hotly into his neck, and Neymar is so tired he barely has the strength to moan. He whimpers, tiny little sounds in the back of his throat.

Leo’s mouthing at his shoulders, and he slowly moves to his collarbone. He’s moving up on his neck, until he’s kissing the underside of his jaw. His mouth stay there for a while, kissing the same spot over and over again. Leo groans suddenly - a low sound, and not a pleasure-induced one. He bites on his throat and Neymar can’t muster the strength to flinch but he grips Leo’s hair harder. Leo keeps nuzzling his neck, and he seems to be growing frustrated by the minute.

Neymar looks down at him curiously for a while, cross-eyed, looks at Leo as he kisses the side of his neck. His brain is fuzzy and his body so limp - it takes him a while to realize Leo is trying to move up. Trying to kiss up, trying to reach his mouth -  _trying_ , because he can’t actually reach it.

Neymar doesn’t really want to waste what little energy he has, but he can’t repress the laughter that start to form in his throat, and he starts giggling against Leo’s hair.

Obviously Leo can’t reach his mouth - he’s always been shorter than Neymar, and in this position he can’t reach past his neck.

Leo bites his neck when he realizes he’s being made fun of, but it only makes Neymar laugh harder. Leo tries fucking him harder, and it works enough that he mixes moans with his giggles, but Leo’s too tired and hot to go very fast.

Neymar laughs for some seconds like that with Leo biting his shoulders, but Neymar can feel him smile into his neck. Finally Leo seems to have enough. He moves back a bit, takes a hold of his thighs, and pulls his legs back over his shoulders. Neymar’s moans and giggles are both cut short when Leo thrusts into him deeply, bending him in half, and when he finds his voice again, Leo’s mouth is on his, sucking his moans away.

Kissing doesn’t do anything for the heat, doesn’t do anything for the tiredness, but it stops neither of them from breathing together, and when they both come and Leo slouches on him, breathing heavily, Neymar is the one who bows his head down and searches for his mouth.


	2. Lionel Messi/Neymar - sex against a wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - sex against the wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags for this chapter : bottom Leo, sex against a wall

The wall, the furniture, the frames are rattling, loud sounds that easily cover the low breathy moans that Leo sometimes lets out. Leo doesn’t moan much, he doesn’t whimper much, but when Neymar is close enough he can hear whimpers, repressed in the back of Leo’s throat.

Leo’s arms are wrapped around his neck, and Neymar thinks Leo must be aware Neymar won’t able to hold him up much longer. He grips Leo’s thighs, so tight he thinks he might leave bruises, but Leo’s thighs are getting increasingly sweaty and Neymar’s hands are slipping. He tries pressing Leo into the wall, as hard as he can, tries to use the wall as a way to hold Leo up, but he still feels Leo holding onto him tighter, expecting the moment Neymar’s arms will fail him and they’ll both tumble to the floor.

They should probably stop and take this somewhere else, instead of waiting for the inevitable crash, but neither Leo nor Neymar mentions it. Neymar thrusts up into Leo, as deep as he can, as hard as he can, and Leo pants in his ears, and they’d both rather crash than stop now.

Neymar’s arms tremble, shake with the effort, and he finally feels them give out.

The fall is slower than expected. There isn’t even any  _fall_ to speak of. Neymar keeps pressing Leo onto the wall, and they both slide down to the ground, until Neymar is kneeling down and Leo is still magically into his arms.

Leo is completely seated on his dick this way, and Neymar pants heavily, trying to catch his breath.

Leo whispers  _weak_  and Neymar bites his neck.


	3. Lionel Messi/Neymar - deciding who tops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - deciding who tops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually prompted by an Anonymous ask telling me Leo was made to bottom.  
> no warning for this chapter

It’s not until they’re both in their underwear and Leo’s hand grabs his ass that Neymar realizes there might have been a misunderstanding.

“Why would you be the one to top?” he asks, frowning.

They have been staring defiantly at each other for five minutes now, and the fact that they’re both still hard is making them edgy.

“Because I’m the older one.”

“Yeah, but you’re shorter. I’m the tallest, so I should top.”

Leo frowns, and shakes his head.

“That’s not how it works. The one with the bigger dick tops the other; that’s the way things are.”

Neymar opens his mouth, ready to defend his honor and his pride, but he can sort of see Leo through his boxer, and there are some battles that it would be wiser not to fight.

He tries another approach.

“But your ass is rounder, so you should be the one who takes it.”

Leo smiles indulgently, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t sell yourself short like that. Your butt is perfectly adapted to your body type, it’s very cute.”

Neymar blushes and mumbles “thanks”, before realizing he’s being deceived, “Wait no! I’m not bottoming anyway.”

He’s starting to be a bit frustrated here, because he’d imagined things would go smoothly, and that by now, he’d already have Leo writhing and moaning under him. Yet here they are, and Leo isn’t under him at all.

“Don’t you want to please me?”

Neymar frowns, wondering where Leo is taking this.

“I thought I was your idol. You should be falling over yourself that I want to do you.”

Neymar gasps. “What? That’s low!”

He didn’t think Leo would have used his football crush against him, but it seems he wasn’t above dirty tactics. Leo smiles sheepishly, though there is a flash of disappointment in his eyes that Neymar hadn’t fell for it.

“Alright, then what about that. We switch.”

“Switch?” Neymar considers it for a moment. He’d rather not let anyone near his ass, but on the other hand he wants something to happen right now, and if that is the only way… “Alright, that may work.”

Leo grins, grabbing his waist, “Then turn over!”

“What? Wait, why are you the one who get to do it first?”

“I’m the one who suggested we switch, so I get the privilege of starting.”

Leo is already tugging at his underwear, and Neymar is a bit tired of this argument, already.

“But next time, I’ll top you right? You promise?”

Leo hums, kissing his neck, and that’s good enough for now. Neymar lets Leo do whatever he wants, let him; and he’ll do the same later anyway.

The next time they have sex (and the time after that, and the time after that) Neymar doesn’t ask for his turn, and just hands Leo the lube silently. Leo, surprisingly tactful, doesn’t comment on it.


	4. Lionel Messi/Neymar - asking for nudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - Neymar wants Leo to send him nudes while they're on international break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warning for this chapter

Neymar had gathered his courage and every ounce of his wits to look Leo in the eyes when he’d asked. He’d barely stuttered, barely blushed. He’d talked until he saw understanding dawn upon Leo.

“You want pictures?” 

Neymar nodded. 

“During the international break?” 

Neymar nodded again. 

“Of me?” Leo frowned, and Neymar nodded again, fighting against the blush creeping up his neck.

“Just one or two. If you don’t mind of course. I just— I’m going to miss you.”

Leo didn’t look convinced, but his eyes softened.

“I’m not good at taking pictures. It’s going to be pretty boring, you know?”

Neymar started imagining the different kind of pictures Leo could send - in front of a mirror or photographing himself directly, naked or half-naked or giving work to Neymar’s imagination, touching himself or keeping his hands away from his body. Would Leo show his face and if so would he look as uninterested as usual?

Neymar had trouble imagining how nudes could be boring. Yet again, Leo hardly thought of himself as the most exciting-looking person.

“There’s no way it’ll be boring.” A shy and excited smile spread on Neymar’s face. “So you’re really going to do it?”

Leo nodded, “Sure.”

Thus, when Neymar bid Leo farewell, both taking different planes to meet with their national teams, he didn’t feel as sad as he thought he would. He kept his phone in his pocket, sending a million texts to Leo to which Leo barely answered.

His phone finally vibrated, somewhere around midnight, and that’s when Neymar saw the flaw of his plan. As much as he appreciated Oscar, they weren’t close enough that Neymar felt comfortable opening Leo’s message in their shared hotel room - even more so considering what Neymar wanted to do with that picture.

He sneaked into the bathroom and turned the shower, hoping the sound will cover any unfortunate noises.

He sat on the floor, phone in hand and arousal already settling in thanks to the anticipation. His hands were sweaty, slightly trembling with the thought of what Leo - who didn’t seem to grasp the concept of sex appeal - could have sent to him.

He opened the message and made sure not to blink. He didn’t blink for some seconds in fact.

His body came alive all at once, shaking with the strength of his laughter as he sprawled on the floor to giggle.

He probably should have expected it. And here he had been surprised at Leo’s acceptance. 

On the picture, Leo wasn’t naked and he wasn’t even alone. He was on his hotel’s balcony, smiling next to Masche while the sun set in the background. Under it, Leo had written a brief summary of his day.

When he was done laughing, Neymar looked at his phone again.

There was a new message from Leo : ‘ _Is that fine?’_

Neymar grinned.

‘ _perfect’_


	5. Lionel Messi/Neymar - bringing his mat closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - Neymar wants to be closer to Leo's mat during training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually based on Neymar bringing his mat closer to Leo's during a training, in a way that was really not discreet. Here are [the gifs](http://the-fuckboy-dynasty.tumblr.com/post/120564468587/fcbarcelonism-messifangirl-im-pretty-sure) if you're interested.

Neymar liked Luis. 

Really, he did. Luis was a great guy, he was unselfish on the field, and he tried very hard. Neymar didn’t have anything against him, and appreciated him just as much as he appreciated any other teammate. 

But. 

When he’d gotten up that morning Neymar had decided today would be a Leo day. He’d noticed somewhere in his first year here that making everyday a Leo day - following Leo around and clinging to him and stalking him - was a bad idea. Not only did it make Leo suspicious, it also seemed to be creeping him out. 

(Retrospectively, that time he had stalked Leo to the restroom and whistled approvingly upon seeing his dick may have been too much.)

Ever since then, he’d decided to keep his aggressive loving to a few day within the week, and today, the 2nd of June, was a Leo day (and it had nothing to with it being Sergio Aguero’s birthday, he couldn’t care less about the Argentine boy, his hair was stupid anyway).

Neymar had started the day by talking enthusiastically to Leo, and he’d been distracted by Alex Song coming by to visit, but he had been decided to make up for it by relentlessly following Leo around during training. Yet, as they had been laying their mat on the pitch he had noticed, horrified, that Luis had laid his mat next to Leo. 

And that was why he had been sitting next to Luis for the last ten minutes, trying and failing to come up with a subtle way to make him move away. He fumed and lamented, trying to smile Leo’s way not to go unnoticed, but he was hidden from his view by Luis one time out of two.

He had had enough. Leo was taking his shoes off, about to indulge in a laid-back talk, and Neymar wanted in.

He waited until Luis looked away, then he took his mat and swiftly pulled it next to Leo, advancing on all fours. He made a first stop, asking a random question to Leo to explain his sudden appearance. (” _Whose birthday did you say it was today? I can never remember his full name”_ )

Leo answered, oblivious to Neymar’s scheme, and that was it. Neymar was now a part of the conversation. He dragged his mat the rest of the way, and settled down, avoiding looking at Luis as he did so.

Neymar felt no remorse - nobody could get in the way of his Leo days, not even a teammate.

(Neymar thought he’d been pretty subtle and swift in his attempt, until Dani had later pointed out that the only way he could have been less obvious would be if he had sucked Leo’s dick. Neymar had been offended at first, but now he was wondering how serious an offense exhibitionism was.)

 


	6. Lionel Messi/Neymar - ouran high school host club AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-neymessi - ouran high school host club AU. Leo is new to school and he just wants to play football.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is based on a manga named ouran high school host club, so this might not really make sense if you don't know this manga.  
> it doesn't actually feature neymessi but I wrote it with neymessi in mind (in the future).

Leo just wants to play football.

He doesn’t know this school, he doesn’t know anyone here. All he knows is football and the way to play the ball between his feet so it’s untouchable for anyone but himself. He doesn’t know how to make friends, but he knows how to have teammates, which is basically better.

Leo just wants to play football. He wants to find the club room and enlist himself, as soon as possible for he doesn’t want to miss any training. He wants to play football, but this is the biggest school he’s ever been too, and he didn’t pay attention when they gave him a tour - everything was gold and fancy, and Leo didn’t take much interest in the self-congratulatory speech he’s been given while shown around. Leo just wants to play football after all, and a ball made of gold would be too heavy to dribble with.

He finds himself in front of a door, above which in gold letters stood the word ‘ _club’_. He thinks he might have finally reached his destination, and he opens the door, shuffling into the room.

The room is completely dark, but as Leo steps in and closes the door behind him, it suddenly blazes with light, dozens of unnecessary chandeliers switched on and dazzling Leo in the process. A loud “ **WELCOME TO THE HOST CLUB** ” deafens him, too high-pitched for his ears. He jumps back, and in his haste to retreat, still confused by the bright light and the loud noise, he bumps into furniture and another noise adds to the rest, the resounding crash of glass smashing against the ground.

When Leo comes back to his sense, when his eyes and his ears works normally again, he hears a snort and a derisive huff, and he is faced with a group of five boys, too well dressed and prettied up to be part of a football club.

“That one can’t be a customer. They want to impress us, none would come in dressed like that”, someone says, contempt dripping from their tone.

A tall man with black hair and long gangly limbs steps away from the shadow of a pillar. He doesn’t stand very close to Leo, but he still looks down at him as though they were inches apart.

“That’ll cost you 1,000,000 $,” he says flatly.

“What?” Leo looks around, trying to make sense of his situation.

The man nods in the direction of the broken glass, “The vase you just broke cost 1,000,000 $. You can pay through check if you want.”

“What? No,” Leo shakes his head. The door isn’t far away, and Leo really really wants to play football, he has no business being in this room full of pretty boys, whose eyebrows look like they cost more than all of his belongings put together. “I just, I’m just searching for the football club.”

Leo side-steps the man and makes for the door, eager to escape of the confusing universe he’s just entered.

A man, not much taller than himself, yet ten times more scarier, steps in his way. He’s bald, and his skull is so shiny it looks like it’s been polished.

“You think we’ll spare you 1,000,000 $?”

Leo frowns, “I don’t have 1,000,000 $.”

“Ah,” the voice comes from behind, from the man with very long limbs. “Well, then you’ll have to find them.”

“No,” Leo shakes his head again, because he doesn’t want to accept a reality where he owes anyone that much money. He barely has enough money for himself, he can’t ask that much of his parents. But he can run fast, maybe if he runs he’ll make it. “I can’t, I don’t–”

“Maybe you can work for us then.” The voice is sudden and loud, so loud it feels like someone spoke right into his ear. A second later, Leo feels breath against his skin, and it turns out someone did speak right into his ear.

It’s another man, but he looks young and Leo can’t think of him as anything else than a boy. His haircut is original, and he wears too much jewelry to be considered school-adequate. He also a very big smile and pearly white teeth, and he’s looking at Leo as curiously as a child would look at a new toy.

Leo discreetly tries to shuffle away from him, before the overwhelming smell of cologne makes him faint.

“Work?” He frowns, “but I want to play football.”

Someone mutters  _athletes; no brain, all brawn,_  but by the time Leo turns his head to the group that is still left standing in the middle of the group, all the men are looking at him disinterestedly and their mouths are closed.

The shiny boy laughs, and Leo suspects he is laughing at his expense.

“Do you know how to clean?” he asks.

“I don’t. I just plays football,” Leo mutters. If he repeats it enough time, surely he will get his point across.

Bald man produces an annoyed noise, “Do you know how to cook?”

Leo shakes his head.

“Do you know how to do anything?” Leo opens his mouth to answer, but the gangly man cuts him off, “besides football?”

Leo shakes his head.

Gangly man sighs, “Well, you’ll learn.”

Leo wants to protest, because he doesn’t have any needs to learn such things, but Bald man cuts him off, “Yes we know,  _you want to play football_. But you either come here everyday for two hours after school to do anything we tell you to do, or you have to find 1,000,000$ by the end of the week.”

It’s an awful choice, and Leo dislikes being told around, but it’s also the only choice he has. He can’t imagine escaping from this room, not when Bald man stands in his way. He can’t imagine imposing such a burden on his parents either.

He nods grudgingly.

It all feels surreal, and Leo thinks maybe tomorrow he’ll wake up and everything would have been a dream.

He just wants to play football.


	7. Lionel Messi/Neymar - holding Neymar down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - Leo fucks Neymar roughly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated E, explicit sex and D/s undertones.

Neymar is sweaty and the sheets stick to his skin and makes him hotter than he already is. The room is filled with nothing but the sound of his moans, Leo’s harsh breaths, and the loud slapping of his balls against his ass.

Neymar is pretty sure he started on all fours, but as Leo kept fucking him, his thrusts harder and deeper as the minutes dragged on, Neymar became unable to hold himself properly. His chest is plastered to the mattress and his hands are wound in the pillow, and his knees have kept sliding until his thighs got spread so wide his hips almost touch the bed. It burns - the position stretches his muscles more than he’s able to handle and his thighs hurt but no matter how hard he tries, Leo ramming into him keeps him from rising his ass properly. Leo has a strong grip on his hip, slamming into him and Neymar is completely helpless.

The stretch becomes unbearable and Neymar tries to gather enough strength to rise himself on his arms, attempting to rest on his elbows. It’s supposed to be easy but it drains him of all his energy, and when he finally manages something resembling doggy style, Leo squashes all his efforts in a second. He places a hand between his shoulder blades and pushes him down, Neymar’s surprised ‘ _oof_ ’ muffled by the pillow, and Leo uses this new leverage to pound into him harder. Neymar moans helplessly, and Leo’s hand feels so heavy on his back; it’s pinning him down, as heavy as if it weighed a ton.

“Leo Leo Leo,” he begs. His body doesn’t feel like his own anymore - Leo holds his hips, pins hims down, he has control over everything and Neymar feels like he can do nothing more than stay here and take it.

“Shh.” Leo bends over, and Neymar feels the heat of his chest hovering over his back. Soft hair tickles his neck and Leo’s mouth in on his ear, tugging on is earring with his teeth and Neymar can’t help turning his head to make it as easy as possible for him.

And then Leo straightens up again, taking hold of both his hips and speeding up his thrusts until Neymar cries out. He scrambles to get a hold on his own dick, feeling himself so close to _this_ point. But he barely gets a hand on himself when Leo takes it away from him, putting it back against the pillow.

“Leo,” Neymar pleads, in what he hopes conveys _please Leo I’m so close let me come I want to come so bad_.

“No,” Leo says, his voice rough and hoarse, and he bottoms out and Neymar is _so close_.

Neymar takes that as a challenge. He yanks his wrist out of Leo’s grip and rushes to reach his cock, but Leo snatches it away again, then snatches his second hand when he tries to use it.

Leo growls and before Neymar realizes what’s happening, Leo crosses both his arms behind his back and keeps them here with one-hand. It shocks Neymar, and there’s a wave of arousal overtaking his whole body.

“Leo-” he starts but Leo grips his hips again with one hand and holds his arms tight with the other, and he starts hammering inside him, and Neymar can’t really say anything anymore. His knees slide even further against the sheets, and his thighs spread so wide he feels like his muscles are going to tear. He moans helplessly, closing his fists, trying to grasp the air, and the more his thighs burn, the more he feels his climax nearing.

“Come on Ney,” Leo says, his voice almost a growl, and it sounds like an order.

And it’s all Neymar needs to come, his toes curling as he empties himself on the sheets, shots after shots.

He clenches around Leo, his body shaking with the helpless need to hold onto something but Leo is still holding him down. Leo keeps fucking him through it, his hips snapping forward with no respite and holding him down with a bruising grip while Neymar lets out soft tired moans. He doesn’t take long after, his strong thighs tensing when he buries himself completely inside, and Neymar feels him cum inside, filling him to the brim. Leo thrusts a few more times before stopping completely, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath.

After a few seconds, he finally lets him go and slowly draws out, and Neymar feels his semen trickles out of his ass with each breath he takes. Being able to stretch his legs properly is a relief, and he lets out a contented moan.

He breathes deeply, taking note of the soreness in every muscles of his body, and he feels content and satiated. He rolls over, uncaring that his back now rests where he came just before.

Leo is resting next to him, and Neymar looks at him - his hair is disheveled, some strands sticking to his forehead, a flush on his ears and a layer of sweat shining on his skin.

Leo glances him up and down with his dark eyes. “For someone with such a small dick you sure come a lot,” he says, and there’s a wide smile on his face, two dimples on his cheeks that make him look adorable and he really doesn’t look like someone who fucks people silly.

“Hey.” Neymar protests weakly. “I thought we said no dick jokes.”

Leo smiles even wider, and Neymar melts on the spot.

“Spoon me,” he demands, and Leo lifts a quizzical eyebrow. “Come on please,” he asks in a more pleading voice.

Leo rolls his eyes but when Neymar turns on his side, he feels two strong arms encircle his waist, and Leo holds him in his arms, and neither of them really care that they’re dirty with spit and semen and sweat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, Neymar's safeword is Celia.


	8. Lionel Messi/Neymar - short blowjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - a blowjob before a match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning : rated E for a blowjob

Neymar is invested in what he’s doing, bobbing his head up and down on Leo’s dick, when Leo’s voice comes out, soft and husky.

“You don’t know how good you look like that,” he says, and Neymar looks up to see Leo watching him with hooded eyes.

He lets go of Leo’s dick, replacing his mouth with his hand. “Sucking your dick?” he licks the trail of saliva dripping down his mouth, “Well, if it’s the sight you enjoy, I could find someone to suck while you watch.”

Leo grimaces, and his hand tightens in his hair, “This is the kind thing I’d rather you didn’t say when you’re blowing me”. He seems to rethink his words, “actually, this is the kind of thing I’d rather you didn’t say at all.”

Neymar grins up cheekily at him.

“You’ll have the time to watch me later; now close your eyes,” and he takes Leo back into his mouth, looking up at Leo until he relents and closes his eyes, his head bumping against the wall with a soft ‘thud’.


	9. Lionel Messi/Neymar - crackfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junior is very eager to meet Leo for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuh warning for crack?

The first time Junior meets Leo, he’s as eager as he feels shy. He heard the others talk about him - they say he’s bigger than you’d think and that he doesn’t speak a lot. Messi is Neymar’s idol so of course Junior can’t wait to meet Leo, but he’s only too aware of how small he is.

Messi stands to their right, and Neymar sneakily glances at him opening his pants. Neither Neymar nor him breath, waiting with anticipation for Leo to show. Junior feels so stressed he can’t even let himself pee.

And then Leo is there. And Junior almost faints.

Sure it’s not as bad as Geri - Junior shriveled in fear when he met him for the first time - but it’s thick and big and pale and hairy, it’s everything Neymar and him like. Leo is the sexiest and most handsome penis he’s ever seen, and Junior feels the tip of his shaft shake with lust. It’s pretty embarrassing, so Neymar’s eyes quickly snap to the wall, and Junior does his best to relax and allow them to finally take a pee, lest Messi and Leo start finding them weird.

They can’t resist sneaking several glances of course. It’s hard resisting when you’ve been waiting for that moment for months.

“Hi,” Junior calls. “I’m Junior.”

He waits for an answer but Leo doesn’t say anything, peeing calmly and quietly.

“You’re Leo right? Is it ok if I call you Leo?”

Leo still doesn’t answer. He seemingly ignores him - Messi doesn’t even seem to have tried to look at Junior at least _once_ since the start.

“Hey!” Junior tries again, feeling a bit angry at being ignored. “You could answer me!”

He’s about to go on a rant when a low noise comes from Leo, and then, in a hoarse voice, “Can you _not_ talk to me while we’re peeing?”

The voice is heavy with reproach and sounds like an order more than a question. Junior is gobsmacked.

“But,” he protests weakly, “when else am I supposed to talk to you?”

There are only two moments he can meet other penises, and that’s in the showers or in the toilets, but he’s never been alone with Leo until now.

Leo emits a sound like a snort or a growl, and he seems surrounded with a _don’t touch me_ air. Junior can’t say another word.

Neymar and Messi finish their business in silence. As Neymar readies himself to zip his pants, Junior lets out a weak, “goodbye”, trying to swallow down his fear.

All he gets in return is an annoyed huff and then, out of nowhere, “you’re tiny,” before Messi puts Leo away.

And Junior knows he’s small, and usually it’s fine but Leo is big and Leo is scary and Junior feels vulnerable and open, and he wants nothing more than to shrivel and hide between his two balls. When Neymar tucks him back in, he’s all too happy to nestle in the fabric of his underwear.

Leo is a scary and rude penis and Junior never wants to see him ever again.

 


	10. Lionel Messi/Neymar - Leo's pubes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo has a ginger beard, and Neymar wonders what else is ginger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating : T  
> no warning  
> prompted by an otp ask _'who sleeps in the other's lap?' Bonus points if u can incorporate the ginger pubes somehow._

Neymar was slightly ashamed of himself. He’d been Leo’s boyfriend for a while now, he should _know_. He’d seen the man naked enough time that he could trace the lines of his body in the dark. He’d built an altar for Leo’s dick (that Leo had unfortunately destroyed when he discovered it). And yet, as pictures after pictures of Leo with his ginger beard surfaced, one question plagued his mind : _is Leo’s pubes ginger?_

The question bugged him so much he couldn’t sleep at night, turning over and over in his bed, trying to summon all the times he’d be with Leo’s cock head to head, which was a _lot_. But nothing. Leo was shaved down there, and Neymar knew that better than anyone because he was the one who deftly ran the razor on Leo’s skin, the hairs way too short to be anything but dark.

Neymar couldn’t take it anymore, so he did the best thing he could do : he paid Leo a visit. They weren’t supposed to meet during the summer, but damn it, they were both in the same country and no one would question it if Neymar popped at Argentina’s hotel to pay his teammate a visit.

—

Neymar had somehow managed to chase the rat away from Leo’s room and they were now sitting on his couch, lazily watching TV. Leo hadn’t looked _too_ reproachful at his sudden and unplanned appearance. Masche had actually been the one to mutter ‘ _keep your dick inside your pants_ ’ as he passed. Was hello not a thing anymore?!

Neymar glanced at Leo’s from the corner of his eyes, studying the growing ginger beard. He hadn’t had the chance to kiss Leo yet and he wondered how it felt. Would it burn? He wanted it to burn. He wanted it all over his skin, he wanted it to burn his skin so bad it would bleed. He wanted it on his thighs, and on his ass. Neymar quickly snapped his eyes back to the TV before he got aroused. He had a mission and he couldn’t get distracted now.

He took a deep breath and with no warning, flopped in Leo’s lap. Leo startled for a second, but his body relaxed and he huffed out a sigh, choosing to let his hand run in Neymar’s hair instead.

“Hey!” Neymar protested, batting his hand away.

“My lap, my rules,” Leo said, his eyes not leaving the TV.

Neymar grumbled but he couldn’t get Leo mad. Not so close to his goal.

He stayed there for several minutes, watching the TV, privately enjoying the feel of Leo’s fingers. After what seemed to be a reasonable amount of time, he yawned, loudly, bringing his hand to his mouth to make sure Leo noticed.

“mtired,” he mumbled, just in case it wasn’t obvious. Then, very naturally, he turned over in Leo’s lap, nuzzling in his shirt instead of facing the TV.

Leo tsked. “Is that what you came here for? Sleep?”

“Well Masche won’t let us fuck so,” Neymar bit back.

Leo pinched his ear in answer but didn’t protest and Neymar heaved a sigh of relief. He waited another few minutes, then glanced up, and sure enough, Leo was dozing off in front of the TV, as expected. It was time for his afternoon nap after all.

Now came the hard part. He had been smart enough to lay a hand on Leo’s lap along with his head, and it was now pressed against Leo’s abs. Good. He moved it slowly, trying to get a feel of the waistband of his shorts. He found it with his little finger and tried pulling down. His little finger wasn’t as skilled as he expected, and he glanced up, to make sure Leo was asleep. He moved his hand a bit more bluntly, getting three fingers in the waistband on his shorts to pull.

He managed only a few inches before he was met with resistance, his own head blocking the way. He moved his head a few inches back, before grabbing Leo’s shorts more firmly and pulling until he could see his underwear.

 _Yes_.

He brought the waistband to his mouth, biting on it to keep it there before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He hooked his fingers under it, and started pulling down, slowly, very slowly, so close to his goal and–

“What the hell are you doing?”

Neymar startled at the low growl, yelping and trying to get away but Leo was holding his wrist.

“I- I just–”

”You’re a fucking perv.”

”No, that’s not it, I swear!”

”Then what?” Leo lifted an eyebrow, still not releasing his wrist.

”I just. I wanted to know if your pubes was ginger.”

Leo stared at him blankly.

”Because your beard is? So I thought maybe… But you’re always shaved, and I… don’t know… so….”

”Is that why you came here?”

”Yes. I mean no, it’s because I love you and I want to be with you all the time.”

Leo released his wrist and slapped him swiftly on the head. ”Idiot,” he said. Then his eyes went back to the TV screen, indicating he was done with that conversation.

Neymar stared up at him.”Um.”

Nothing.

”Um, Leo?”

Leo hummed in response.

”Is it?”

”What?”

”Ginger?”

Leo didn’t even look at him.

”Your pubes, is it ginger?”

Leo didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then a smirk slowly spread over his face.

”Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish it was ginger but alas.


	11. Lionel Messi/Neymar - Neymar vs The Narrator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neymessi - there's a Voice narrating in Neymar's head and he can't say he likes it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post that one the other time, my bad.  
> I've been told this was alike to a "Stranger than Fiction" AU, though I've never seen the movie ! Anyway, italics are for the Narrator's voice.

_Neymar watched Leo’s ass like a predator watching its prey-_

“I wasn’t!,” Neymar shrieks, making Leo turn around with a frown.

“Is something wrong?” Leo asks.

“No- uh, sorry,” Neymar stutters, flushing because there’s no way he can tell Leo about the Voice and what it was talking about.

_-Neymar felt regret when Leo turned around, never satisfied with what he was getting, never satisfied with how little of Leo’s ass he could actually see. Leo covered so much of his body and it was an intense source of pain for Neymar, who could do nothing more than jerk off and-_

“I do not!” Neymar protests again. “I don’t-” He bites his lips to stop himself, embarrassed when Leo looks at him worriedly.

_-Leo’s head was titled and Neymar thought this was wonderful, that a man this age could look bland, dangerous and cute all at the same time.-_

The voice has a point, Neymar thinks.

_Leo was a mix of things Neymar couldn’t understand, a mystery Neymar couldn’t wait to unravel, and it kept him up at night. Would Leo dominate him, would he be passive? Would it be disappointing? Did Leo stare at his lovers the way he stared at a goal or did he look at them with the same boredness he watched TV with? Did he show the same nervousness he showed cameras during interviews, unable to keep still and stare ahead, flushing easily, or would he be confident and fierce, determined like when he stepped on a pitch, when he came to win and that was all that mattered? Neymar felt himself flush with these thoughts, his body hot and yet it was winter._

Neymar bites his lips not to protest. He does feel a bit hotter, damn it. Shut up Voice, he thinks. Shut up shut up.

Thankfully, Leo isn’t staring at him weirdly anymore, and he went back to typing lazily on his phone.

_Of course Leo hadn’t been worried very long. Despite the undying love Neymar had for Leo, he knew Leo was selfish - someone who took from people without ever giving back, someone who existed for its own purpose, an egoistical arrogant assh-_

“LIAR,” Neymar shouts. “I’M GOING TO FUCKING FIGHT YOU ASSHOLE COME AT ME.”


	12. Lionel Messi/Neymar - "Oh, did I scare you, big boy?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _"Oh, did I scare you, big boy?"_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar sneaks into Leo's room in the middle of the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've answered a bunch of prompts on tumblr so I'm going to be posting them here, mostly.  
> no warning for this chapter.

It quickly appears that Neymar is drunk.

 

It still doesn’t do much to explain why he sneaked into Leo’s room in the middle of the night, but it does explain why he’s stumbling so much, despite Leo having turned the lights on.

 

It also explains the slurring.

 

“What are you doing,” he asks wearily.

 

“Shhh don’t talk, I don’t want to wake Leo up,” Neymar says, tries to say, sounds like he’s saying.

 

Leo squints. “It’s too late for this shit,” he declares promptly turning the lights off and flopping back into his bed.

 

Let Neymar kill himself stumbling over thin air, serves him well for waking him up at 5 am before a match.

 

Sadly, Neymar seems intent on not being discreet, and to his greatest annoyance he feels his mattress dipping as Neymar clumsily tries to climb onto his bed.

 

“Neymar,” he warns, his voice partially muffled in his pillow. Usually, he doesn’t need to raise his voice for Neymar to obey, but tonight he’s unruly and disobedient – he’s drunk that is.

 

Neymar crawls over the covers, over his body, until Leo can count the number of beers he’d drowned in how bad his breath smelled.

 

He grimaces.

 

“Get off me,” he mumbles.

 

“Leo,” Neymar whispers, loudly. “Leo are you awake.”

 

“No.”

 

Neymar stops moving and Leo turns his head the other way to escape the awful smell.

 

It’s a mistake to think Neymar will leave him alone, because after a few seconds he feels him moving again, pulling on the covers – trying to, apparently not realizing he can’t get under something he’s laying on. Leo turns back to him and turns the light back, watching the immense confusion in Neymar’s eyes as he struggles with the sheets.

 

Leo is close to bodily kicking him out but he’s also worried Neymar will make a fuss, and he does not want anyone to see a drunk Neymar causing ruckus and calling his name right outside his hotel room.

 

He sighs and with as little movements as possible, pulls the covers from underneath Neymar and throws them back over him.

 

“Now will you fucking sleep?” he asks, annoyance slipping into his voice.

 

Neymar doesn’t even listen to him.

 

As soon as he’s under the covers he moves around again, with renewed vigor. He dives to the bottom of the bed and grips onto Leo’s body.

 

Leo just about wonders whether Neymar thinks he’s a life-sized teddy bear when he feels him try to take his clothes off.

 

“What the-” he throws the covers off his body and catches Neymar’s hands before he can effectively drag his shorts down. “What the hell Ney?”

 

Neymar frowns up at him.

 

“You look a lot like Leo,” he says.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Neymar’s brows furrow deeper. “Giving my greetings.”

 

God, Leo decides he hates drunk people. He hates drunk Neymar. He hates Neymar actually, and he’ll be sure to tell him tomorrow when he’s hungover and miserable.

 

Brave like no other despite the early hour, Leo decides this situation has to end, right now.

 

He promptly sits up on his bed, leaning against the headboard as he searches for his phone, intent on calling another one of his teammate and let them deal with Neymar instead of him. He’s not one to throw tantrums, despite what the journalists say, but it’s 5 am and he’s not over guilt-tripping one of their younger fellows into dealing with Neymar.

 

He ignores Neymar as he looks for the number of an impressionable teammate – Digne, he decides. Hasn’t been there a year, still in awe of him. Will do.

 

That’s when he feels Neymar’s hands on his hips and before he has the time to do much, cold air over his crotch and thighs as Neymar drag his shorts under his knees.

 

“What the-” Leo pulls back, finds himself already backed against the headboard. “What the f-”

 

“Hey there big boy,” Neymar says, looking down at his dick. “Did I scare you?”

 

And Leo can do nothing more than watch with utter horror the tenderness and affection in Neymar’s eyes as he looks at his penis.

 

“M’llo?” comes the tired phone of Lucas over his phone speaker.

 

Neymar coos, exclaims “Leo!” lovingly. Doesn’t look at his face.

 

Leo promptly hangs up.

 

He locks Neymar in the bathroom and goes back to sleep.


	13. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar is at a party and Pique tries to convince him to play strip poker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a college AU

“I don’t care what said when I was drunk. I’m not playing strip poker.”

 

Geri snorts. “You suggested that game yourself.”

 

“This was a week ago,” Neymar insists. “And I was drunk. I’m not playing strip poker.”

 

“Oh come on, like _you care_.”

 

“What?” he says defensively.

 

“You flaunt your body every chance you got.”

 

“This was before,” Neymar protests, indignant. “I’ve changed.”

 

Gerard rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his drink. “The hot priest isn’t going to fuck you, even if you tell him you’ve repented, you know.”

 

“Shut up,” Neymar says. And more quietly, “You don’t know that.”

 

He’s ready to go on about how much of a different man he is now – one with self-respect and modesty – when his eyes catch sight of something he sadly doesn’t see often.

 

“Booty,” he says under his breath, his eyes hooking onto his idol.

 

“Leo,” Gerard supplies next to him. “His name is Leo.”

 

But Neymar isn’t listening to him. His eyes have lost themselves in the glorious curve of Booty’s ass, and the splendid muscles of the thighs holding it.

 

He doesn’t see Booty often these days. He doesn’t even know what major is in, but usually he could catch sight of him at 4 pm on Mondays, as he made his way to the parking lot. Booty’s schedules must have changed because he hasn’t seen him there in a while.

 

Booty is wearing jeans as unfitting as usual – a bit too big for his small legs, but his bouncy ass stretches the fabric anyway. When he turns around, Neymar takes in his whole outfit – white shirt, black jacket, jeans. As usual, Booty doesn’t seem to be trying very hard. Neymar likes that about him.

 

Neymar realizes he hasn’t heard Gerard’s voice in a few minutes, and that has nothing to do with how loud the music is. When he looks up at his unreasonably tall friend, he sees a manic, mischievous smile on his face.

 

It smells like trouble.

 

Gerard turns towards Booty and calls his name. “Leo hey!” he shouts, and despite the deafening music, his voice is loud enough that it can be heard far away, as though it was one peculiar bass of the song.

 

Booty looks around, searching for the source of the voice before he sees Gerard waving at him. He smiles, lazily returning the wave.

 

Booty has nice dimples.

 

Geri beckons him over and Neymar’s eyebrows knit together. He knows Gerard is planning something, but he can’t say what yet.

 

“Leo, it’s been a while since I saw you at one of these parties!” Gerard chats, friendly and loud.

 

Booty shrugs. “Kun made me.”

 

“He’s there?” Geri wonders, looking around.

 

Booty shrugs again. “I guess. I lost sight of him two hours ago. I think he’s making out with some kid.”

 

Gerard laughs that booming laugh of his. Neymar likes this about him, but he doesn’t tell him that.

 

“Anyway look, me and my friends are going to play a game-” Neymar opens his mouth to point out _he_ isn’t going to play any game, but Gerard goes on, “You interested?”

 

And Neymar finally figures out what’s happening.

 

“I don’t know,” Booty mumbles – which is hardly a good idea given how loud the music is. He seems hesitant.

 

“What’s the game?”

 

“Strip Poker,” Gerard announces, wide grin stuck on his face.

 

Booty doesn’t expect that answer, eyes widening slightly. He shakes his head, refusal visible all over his face.

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Gerard insists.

 

“Not my thing,” Booty says.

 

There goes Gerard’s schemes to get Neymar to sin and abandon his brand new modesty. He’s not as happy about Geri’s defeat as he should be but he still has a smile at the ready.

 

Gerard persists though.

 

“You sure? I mean I get you don’t want to end up naked but--” Gerard looks inappropriately innocent as he says, “Only losers end up naked do they?”

 

Neymar watches, awed, as something in Booty’s face switch. His posture changes – he seems to hold himself more proudly.

 

“But I mean,” Gerard goes on. “I understand if you’re afraid of having to strip in front of strangers. Poker’s not an easy game after all.”

 

And there, Neymar can see the pride and ego in his eyes. He’s a lot less hesitant now.

 

“No it’s fine,” Booty says. “I’ll play.”

 

“Great!” Gerard exclaims. “My friends found us a quiet room, follow me?”

 

Booty nods and Geri looks back at Neymar questioningly.

 

“So you’re coming or…?”

 

And Neymar hates Geri, he really does. But he’s not about to pass up the opportunity to see Booty naked.


	14. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “Am I scaring you?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : “Am I scaring you?”
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar finds himself in a dangerous situation and is saved by an unlikely ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : assault
> 
> I actually really bikers AU. I'd like to write one one day, although not this one.

When Dani later asks him what he’d been doing in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night, Neymar tells him that Rafinha had been boasting the better part of the week about catching a level 3000 Lapras and that Neymar had decided to boldly go where no one had gone before to catch some terrific pokemon even Rafa would be jealous of.

 

When Neymar was sitting on his ass on some cold, dirty floor and found himself surrounded by a bunch of shady looking men, it didn’t seem as smart as he’d first though.

 

He was breathless, from having run a grand total of 30 feet, before he’d realized there was no other door than the one the men had came from. And now here he was, watching his end come like a mere spectator.

 

“Looks like the kitty is trapped,” one guy sing-sang, brass knuckles shining on his hand. Neymar decided to pretend they didn’t exist, lest he passed out.

 

“Kitty kitty~ come play with us~”

 

Creepy. This was creepy.

 

He crawled back until his back hit a wall, and he had half a mind to bang his head against the concrete so he didn’t have to watch himself die.

 

“I don’t have money,” he choked.

 

“Aw you hear that?” one man said. “Kitty doesn’t have money.”

 

A few of them snickered and some cooed.

 

Neymar’s eyes darted from the men to the door to every items in the room. His throat was clogged up with fear and panic, and he couldn’t even muster the strength to call for help. He was rendered to a sweaty, voiceless lump of a human.

 

“Such a shame!” one man said.

 

“But we can still play with Kitty right?”

 

“Course we can!”

 

Neymar’s eyes went from one men to another as they spoke, feeling like a cornered animal, a prey.

 

“Please-”

 

“Kitty Kitty~” One man bent down, making that noise one made when they tried to beckon an animal over.

 

This was degrading. This was humiliating, but Neymar could do nothing but beg.

 

“Please,” he sobbed again, eyes welling up with tears.

 

“Now look, Kitty, we-”

 

Something backfired next to the building, the noise loud enough to cover the man’s voice. Neymar flinched back at the sound, his eyes closing instinctively.

 

One of the men tsked. “Fucking riders,” he said.

 

“Can’t wait for that lot to die,” another one said, earning a few hums of approval.

 

Neymar opened his eyes and the men focused back on him.

 

“So Kitty, where were we?”

 

Neymar never got the chance to answer and beg some more, because something backfired again and with bang loud like an explosion, a black motorbike stormed through the door and headed towards them.

 

“What the fuck you’re doing shit head. You think-”

 

The black bike drove right towards them and the men realized just in time to jump away from its trajectory.

 

The rider hit the brakes as he turned around then sped up once more, heading staight towards the group of creepy men.

 

“Are you crazy? We’re going to kill you, fucker!” one man said, before promptly jumping out of the motorbike’s path.

 

Neymar looked on, awed and disbelieving, as the scene repeated itself a few times, ending with the group of shady men being chased away by the biker. He could hear their shouts outside as the vehicle took chase, its loud roar enough to wake up a town.

 

He sat where he was, drenched in cold sweat, the drums of his heart beat playing a funeral march in his skull.

 

There was no sounds besides his panting in the warehouse until the roar of the engine came back, softer this time. Neymar listened to it grow nearer and nearer, until a black figure could be seen at the door, driving in. It came to a stop a few feet away from Neymar, and the black figure climbed off of the bike.

 

The man took of his cask, and, contrasting sharply with the black bike and the black leather jacket, Neymar saw a man whose skin was as white as the moon. He held his cask under his arms and looked at Neymar.

 

“You ok?” he asked.

 

A silly thing to ask, because no he wasn’t ok, and he wasn’t in any state to speak right now anyway.

 

The man ran a hand through his hair – black too, messy and soft-looking.

 

“What were you doing there?” The man grumbled, opening his leather jacket. “It’s no place for a kid. You want to die or something? If I hadn’t passed by they’d have-”

 

He cut himself short when he took in Neymar’s pale face and quivering body. He seemed to think it was better not to finish his sentence, which only served to make Neymar more anxious.

 

“Anyway, be careful,” he said instead.

 

He walked up to him, holding his hand out and Neymar flinched and closed his eyes.

 

He waited a few seconds, but no blow came and he slowly opened his eyes again, only to meet two black eyes set straight on him.

 

“Am I scaring you?” the man asked.

 

Neymar didn’t have the answer to that.

 

Yes, he was scaring him, but Neymar thought a ladybug could scare him at this moment.

 

A slight frown appeared on the man’s face, and he seemed upset by the answer he’d gained from his silence. He closed his hands into a fist as he drew it back.

 

“Guess people still don’t like bikers,” he mumbled. “I’ll just call the police. They’ll take you home.”

 

Before he could turn back Neymar managed to find his voice again.

 

“Wait!” he said, voice raspy, scratching his own throat. “Sorry I just- I thought you were going to- It’s not because you’re a biker or anything, just-- uh. Thank you. For saving me,” he ended lamely. You couldn’t expect a beautiful thank you from a guy who’d been this close to pissing himself right?

 

The man considered him for a few seconds. He was short but as he gauged him, Neymar felt like a little kid.

 

“Ok,” the man finally said, accepting his thanks as it was. “Do you have any way to go back home?”

 

“Yeah,” Neymar nodded. He tried to smile. “Left leg and Right leg,” he joked, but it fell flat.

 

The man ran a hand through his hair again, making it messier and spikier than before. “I can drive you home,” he offered.

 

Neymar blinked. He hadn’t expected such an offer.

 

When he’d turned around, Neymar had clearly seen a sign on the man’s leather jacket. He belonged to one of the biker gang in town. Neymar didn’t know him, it was a complete stranger and he could be dangerous, could be lulling into a sense of safety only to make the blow that much more painful.

 

Not to mention that if his mother heard of him riding a bike, she’d have a heart attack.

 

Neymar’s lips quirked upwards and he nodded.

 

“Yes, thanks!”

 

This time when the man held his hand out, Neymar didn’t flinch.


	15. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “I’m pregnant.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“I’m pregnant.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar has a fever and doesn't quite make sense anymore.

Neymar’s delirium was fun the first hour but Leo has to admit he hadn’t imagined he’d be spending his free day taking care of Neymar.

 

He couldn’t leave Neymar on his own; the poor boy was sweating all over, sighing and whimpering as the heat came in waves then left him cold and shivering. The doctors said it wasn’t anything to worry about but the fever sure hit him hard.

 

“Leo,” comes Neymar’s feverish voice. “Leo where are you, Leo-”

 

“Here,” Leo answers monotonously. He’s still holding Neymar’s hand and they exchanged words a few minutes ago but Neymar seems to be caught in a new frenzy.

 

“Leo I have… I have something to tell you.” Neymar’s eyes search the room, wandering the whole length of the ceiling before they fall on him, glassy and tired. Leo would bend over and kiss his forehead, if the doctor hadn’t told them he was contagious.

 

“I’m listening,” he answers, leaning back on his seat.

 

“I’m pregnant,” Neymar announces, before closing his eyes painfully.

 

“You’re pregnant,” Leo repeats.

 

Neymar nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he says, regret dripping into his voice.

 

“Right. And you know that because…?”

 

“Recently I… I took on weight,” Neymar avoids looking him in the eye, as though ashamed of himself. “I’m fat,” he whispers.

 

Leo looks at the hand he’s holding and the arm attached to it – muscular but thin, almost skinny, and he knows from first hand-experience that Neymar is lithe and slim, like a newborn fawn.

 

“You’re not fat,” he says.

 

“I am.” Neymar’s voice cracks and he squeezes his hand.

 

“There there,” Leo shushes him, almost manages to sound convincing. He pats his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “You’re beautiful the way you are.”

 

“You’re so nice,” Neymar says. “So nice, to a fatty like me.” His voice breaks again and he starts sobbing.

 

Leo spends several minutes soothing and reassuring him, telling him he’s beautiful which _isn’t_ a lie as far as he’s concerned but Leo usually likes to keep these things to himself and he hopes Neymar doesn’t remember these events once he’s healthy again.

 

After a while, Neymar’s eyes stop being glassy because of tears and gleam instead with thinly-veiled hope.

 

“What makes you think you’re pregnant?” Leo asks once Neymar stops sniffling.

 

“I don’t _think_ ,” Neymar corrects him. “I know. I feel it, in my _soul_. I… I think my tits grew bigger too.”

 

“Alright.” Leo accepts this as it is. If this wasn’t sure to make Neymar cry again, he’d probably laugh.

 

Neymar goes on. “I’m ready to lactate.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Leo points out, although to be fair, the pregnancy itself isn’t possible, but it seems pointless telling Neymar that.

 

“It is,” Neymar protests. “I can feel it. I’m lactating.”

 

Leo looks at the ceiling and counts to three in his head. If Geri was here he’d be laughing his ass off. If Neymar’s mom was there, she’d be fussing over him. Leo finds himself lost between the two stands.

 

“Alright,” he finally says. “What else?”

 

“I feel sick,” Neymar says. “Nauseous.”

 

“Oh do you?” Leo says dryly. He eyes the bucket at his feet. He already lost a shirt in that battle and he hopes to spare the rest of his wardrobe. “I had no idea.”

 

“I hid it from you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

 

“How nice.”

 

“That’s not at all,” Neymar continues, feverish and urgent. “I have _cravings_. In the middle of the day, for no reason I just-- I’m so _hungry_.”

 

Leo tries to look properly shocked and thoughtful. “Could these cravings you speak of manifest themselves around 12 am every day?”

 

Neymar’s eyes widen and he nods. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, exactly.”

 

Leo nods seriously. “I see.”

 

Neymar looks at him helplessly, teary-eyed and sweaty. Leo feels once again torn between hilarity and pity.

 

He feels his hand being squeezed, as tight as Neymar’s weak body allows.

 

“It’s my fault,” he whispers. “I told you not to wear a condom even though you wanted to.” A lone tear fall on Neymar’s cheek as he closes his eyes. “I’ll take full responsibility for it. You don’t have to worry.”

 

“Now now.” Leo reaches out to wipe the tear of Neymar’s face. His eyelashes are wet. “Don’t say things like that. Of course I’m going to take care of the, uh, baby, with you.”

 

“You will?” Neymar asks, hope tinting his voice. “You really would? Oh Leo,” he sobs again. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

“Don’t work yourself to such a state,” Leo says, rubbing his arm soothingly. “Thiago will be _thrilled_ to have a sibling.”

 

“It’s a girl,” Neymar whispers. “I feel it.”

 

“A girl. Wonderful.”

 

“I want to call her Célia, like your mother,” Neymar confesses.

 

Leo finds it kind of sweet.

 

He just wishes his brain wouldn’t supply him with images of Neymar shitting a child through his anus.

 


	16. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar shares an hotel room with Leo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : masturbation, some form of exhibitionism

Neymar bites his pillow, muffling a new moan as a wave of pleasure washes over him. The grip he has on himself is tight, almost too tight, painful and torturous, just the way he likes it.

 

If he focuses hard enough he can hear Leo’s regular breathing in the bed next to him, which is both a torture and a fantasy.

 

God, what is he doing?

 

He can’t remember why he thought it was a good idea. He can’t remember what made him give in, but he does remember what made him cave – Leo. It’s always Leo. But even for him, masturbating while sharing a room with Leo, his teammate, his friend, his idol – it’s too much.

 

And yet he can’t stop. He turns his head into his pillow, biting until his jaw ache. He can barely breathe but it’s better to suffocate than to risk Leo hearing him.

 

He thought about going to the bathroom, but it’s dark and Neymar can’t see. He’d be sure to stumble and trip. He’d have to turn on the lights, it’d wake Leo up, he’d make noises, the length will give him away. He clenches his eyes shut and twists his hand, curling his toes in pleasure.

 

His only respite is that he knows he doesn’t last long, not when he’s thinking of Leo ( _his arms his voice his curves his smell_ ), and for some fucked up reason he can’t forgive himself for, it arouses him. The fear, the danger, Leo’s presence right next to him – he’s a sick pervert but it makes the pleasure that much more precious, as though earned instead of easily taken.

 

He curls into a ball, the sheets wet with sweat sticking to his body and making him feel even hotter. He needs to turn away from the pillow, take big gulps of air, as silently as possible. He lets his mouth fall open and lets his free hand sleep under his tank top, wander his own torso, brush over his nipples.

 

Bad idea.

 

His voice almost cracks and he bites the pillow just in time, turning his moan into a high-pitched exhale. His heart drums in his ears but he stills for a moment, looks for Leo’s even breathing, finds it and relaxes.

 

He imagines Leo lying in his bed, peaceful and serene, his mouth half open and his lashes resting on his cheeks. He imagines it’s summer and Leo’s wearing nothing more than trunks, his hip bones showing and the muscles of his abdomen perfected by the breaths he takes. Leo is right next to him and he could turn around, he could watch him for real, and he knows he won’t but the thought is enough to make him move faster, jerking himself off in quick movements until he feels dizzy from the oxygen loss.

 

His grip tightens one last time and then he’s shooting, cum splattering over his own stomach and dirtying the sheets of the hotel room.

 

Neymar lays on his side, sweaty and exhausted, panting as quietly as he can. He closes his eyes and tries to slow down his heartbeat, come down from his orgasm.

 

He’s doing a pretty job at it, and with his climax the fear of being caught wash away, leaving a satiated relief in its trail.

 

He’s just about to dare turn on the other side not to lay in his own sperm, ready to fall asleep, when he catches a voice, soft and low as usual, but unmistakable in the quiet of the night.

 

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

 

 


	17. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “Stop being grumpy. It’s lame.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“Stop being grumpy. It’s lame.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Leo and Neymar had a fight, and now Leo has a talk with an unlikely companion.

Leo feels a finger poking his face.

 

He’s not in the mood for Neymar’s silly games, but before he voices his annoyance he realizes the finger is way too small to be Neymar’s.

 

He opens his eyes and finds himself face to face with Davi Lucca.

 

“What are you doing?” the boy says. He lost a teeth recently and the hole it left is visible. Neymar says it’s the cutest thing ever.

 

“Nothing,” he answers.

 

Davi frowns. “Are you moping? _Pai_ says you do that sometimes.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“Stop being grumpy!” Davi demands. “Grumpy’s lame.”

 

Leo considers the child for a few seconds before letting a tired smile on his face. He moves to sit up on the couch, allowing Davi to sit next to him. He hops onto the couch and starts playing on a tablet – some game about green zombies.

 

“Where’s _Pai_?” he asks, small fingers tapping quickly on the wide screen.

 

“In his room.”

 

“Why aren’t you with him?”

 

“He’s busy,” Leo answers automatically. He has a son too, he doesn’t have to think to know when to lie to children.

 

Davi Lucca doesn’t seem kin on being lied too though.

 

His blonde eyebrows furrow together – either in reaction to Leo’s words, or because he lost twenty of his zombies in his game.

 

“What is he doing? _Pai_ said we’d walk Poker together.” He loses his game and puts his tablet on his knees. “I’m going to ask him when we leave!”

 

Leo catches his arm before he can run away.

 

“What?” Davi asks. He shakes his arm until Leo lets him go, then stands in front of him angrily. “I wanna see _Pai_!”

 

“Now isn’t a good time Davi,” Leo says softly. But of course children never understand these things, and Davi looks more confused and contrite than before.

 

“Why?” he asks, a pout forming on his face.

 

“I… I had a disagreement with your dad,” Leo finally admits, and Davi’s mouth form a small o, before he hops back onto the couch.

 

“Was this about Poker?”

 

Leo has to chuckle at that.

 

“No this wasn’t about Poker. It’s just...” Leo looks at the wall – there is a painting of Neymar there, because Neymar loves these things. There’s also a picture of the the of them, resting on the coffee table. “We both want things we can’t have, and your dad has a hard time coming to terms with that,” he finally mumbles.

 

He isn’t sure he phrases it correctly, not sure if it’s enough or too much, but he’s sure this isn’t something a child can understand.

 

Davi scratches his knee, a look of intense concentration on his face. “Is it because--- because _Pai_ says it’s a secret? That you’re _Pai’_ s boyfriend.”

 

Or maybe children are more perceptive than Leo gives them credit. He finds his throat a bit dry and he nods.

 

“Yes, it’s exactly that.”

 

“Oh,” Davi looks down. He looks a bit sad, and Leo knows from Neymar he doesn’t like keeping things secret. Thiago doesn’t quite get it either. “But _Pai_ ’s fine?”

 

Neymar isn’t exactly fine. When Leo left his bedroom after their argument, his eyelashes were wet and his voice scratchy. He’d been about to cry, and that was exactly why Leo had left the room.

 

He didn’t want to see Neymar cry.

 

Now, he thinks Neymar might still be curled on his bed, crying to himself, and his guts twist with guilt.

 

“I don’t know,” he confesses, and sees the worry on Davi’s face. “Why don’t we check up on him, hm?” he asks. Davi’s face brighten and he jumps off the couch at once, all ready to go see his dad.

 

When they reach his bedroom, they do find Neymar sniffling, eyes pink and face flushed. Davi runs up to his dad and throws himself at him. Neymar holds him in arms, petting his hair tenderly as his eyes move to find Leo’s, leaning in the doorway.

 

Leo looks at the two of them, laying on the bed, and he’s not cruel, he wants the same things Neymar wants, but he knows how much they’d both be hurt if they took it now. It’s not a _never_ , it’s a _later_ , but Neymar is young and impatient and he forgets sometimes.

 

He smiles apologetically at him and Neymar gives back in kind. He tilts his head to the bed and Leo walks towards him, climbing on the mattress. He plasters himself against Neymar’s back and wraps his arms around him, letting his fingers join with Neymar’s on Davi Lucca’s head.

 

It’s not a _never_ , Leo tells himself. It’s a _later_.


	18. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “I’ll give you a massage.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“I’ll give you a massage.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Leo is injured and Neymar offers to give him a massage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : explicit content, established relationship

When he comes back, Leo is still sitting right where he left him an hour ago.

 

Injured Leo isn’t the most active Leo – and regular Leo isn’t very active to begin with.

 

Neymar sighs and softly pads into the living room, taking a seat next to Leo’s injured leg. It’s nothing too bad according to the doctors. A mere sprain, he should be ready to play again in two weeks.

 

“You ok?” he asks.

 

Leo shrugs.

 

He seems to be watching some kid show on TV, slumped in the couch, his injured leg spread in front of him and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap.

 

“Do you want a massage?” Neymar asks, drawing Leo’s attention to him.

 

“What?”

 

“A massage.” He nods down. “For your leg.”

 

Leo seems hesitant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea.”

 

“It’s a massage,” Neymar reasons. “It can’t be bad. It’s supposed to make you feel good.”

 

Leo tilts his head and considers his offer for a few seconds before nodding, and Neymar happily pull the blanket off of Leo’s lap. He straddles Leo’s right calf and take the bottle of oil out of his back pocket. Leo quirks a brow at him.

 

“Yes,” Neymar answers before he can ask. “I did plan that.”

 

Leo looks amused but he doesn’t make any comment, instead turning off the sound of the TV. He rolls the leg of his short up to reveal his thigh to Neymar’s eager eyes, before laying back comfortably against a big cushion.

 

Neymar pours the oil on his hands and rub his fingers together, inhaling deeply to enjoy the fruity smell that comes out of it. He eyes Leo’s muscled thigh hungrily.

 

Yes, he’d very much been planning it.

 

When his hands press against Leo’s flesh, his muscles jump for a second, before he relaxes under his caress as he spreads the oil all over his thigh, until his skin gleams. This almost feels like a cheap porn. Either that or a wrestling competition.

 

Neymar starts at the base of his knee, that knot of muscles and bones, pressing and rubbing his thumb in soothing circles, kneading the flesh. He keeps his eyes down, focused on his task, absentmindedly listening to Leo’s soft sighs as he relaxes under his touch.

 

Leo lets his back slide down his big cushion, his leg rubbing against Neymar’s crotch as he settles more comfortably.

 

Neymar is careful as he works, rubbing and massaging the muscles in Leo’s thigh until they give in under his touch, melting and becoming pliant instead of tense and hard. His crotch is pressed against Leo’s calf and he knows he’s half-hard, had kind of expected it, but it is no bother, neither to him nor to Leo.

 

Actually if he looks up, he’s pretty sure he’ll see Leo’s shorts tenting too.

 

When Leo’s thigh seems appropriately relaxed, Neymar moves his hands up, spreading his fingers over Leo’s stomach, under his shirt. Leo obediently takes off his shirt to allow him, sliding down until his knee press against his crotch and he’s lying lazily on the couch.

 

Neymar hums, splaying his hands over Leo’s belly, feeling and seeing his abs tense under his touch. He traces them, feels the dip and curves of his stomach all the way down to his hip bone, rubbing back up to his sides. His own hips have started making tiny movements, rubbing against the thigh he’s now straddling to relieve some of the tension in his dick.

 

He reaches for the oil and pours it on Leo’s torso, watches him stiffen when the cold liquid hits his skin, before Neymar dives back into his task, making sure his whole torso is covered in the mixture. He pushes back against his stomach when he feels him breath in, slides his thumbs along his sternum and massages his shoulders, meeting Leo’s half-lidded eyes.

 

He feels Leo’s hard-on against his knee and he presses more against his thigh to rub against it. Leo lifts his leg ever so slightly, prompting Neymar to moan softly and he takes it as a permission to effectively ride his thigh.

 

Neymar doesn’t stop his massage, moving it to Leo’s muscled arms and strong hands, making sure to relax his muscles even as arousal makes them tense, but he’s starting to pant a bit as he rubs himself back and forth against Leo’s leg.

 

He grips Leo’s shoulder a bit too hard, his movements jerkier as he rides his thigh harder. The fabric of his shorts is probably chafing Leo’s skin but Leo says nothing, half-lidded eyes riveted on Neymar’s face and soft breaths coming out of his mouth.

 

When Neymar feels he’s near he holds tightly onto Leo’s sides, pressing harder against his thigh and he closes his eyes when he feels himself come, his mouth opening in a silent gasp.

 

When he opens his eyes back, Leo has sneaked a hand into his own shorts, jerking himself off in quick movements.

 

Neymar’s oily hands join his on his shaft and he helps him to completion, before flopping back next to him on the couch.

 

“I’ll be honest,” Neymar mumbles, his dirty underwear sticking to his skin and making him feel like he’d peed himself. “I’ve always kind of wanted to ride your thigh.”

 

Leo chuckles, soft and relaxed, and Neymar congratulates himself on a job well done.

 

 

–

 

 

Later, it turns out the massage wasn’t a good idea and Leo’s out for a bit longer.

 

He won’t talk to Neymar for a week.

 


	19. Lionel Messi/Neymar - “Use your words.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“Use your words.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar just wants to know if Leo loved him, before this all ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : blood, injuries, death

Neymar crawls on the ground, leaving a trail of blood on the white snow. He goes past several bodies but he doesn’t look, doesn’t need to to know he wouldn’t recognize his friends now.

 

It’s cold enough that white puff form when he exhales, and he’s starting not to feel his fingers, but he isn’t sure that’s due to the cold.

 

He crawls to the form a few feet away because he knows that’s Leo’s body, he recognizes the arm and its flashy colors, the pink of his tattoos shining like nothing else in the night.

 

The minutes are long, painful before he manages to reach Leo, looking at nothing but his arm because he refuses to look at his legs, refuses to acknowledge the missing limbs.

 

He comes level with Leo’s face, and his face has always been white but it’s pale as death now, his lips blue with the cold and red with the blood coming from his mouth.

 

His eyes are glassy, half-open, staring into the emptiness.

 

“Leo,” Neymar chokes. “Leo, hey.”

 

Leo’s eyes slide to his face but he seems unfocused, spamming his whole face and upper body before he looks away again, staring behind Neymar towards the growing flames.

 

“Leo, I need to tell you.” Neymar’s shirt isn’t doing much against the cold and he’s shivering, shaking, but it somehow numbs the pain in his legs, makes him forget about his broken ankle. “I love you Leo,” he confesses. “I’ve always loved you.”

 

Leo’s eyes dart back to his face, focuses on him but he says nothing, not a word.

 

“From the beginning, I’ve loved you,” Neymar goes on, finds Leo’s hand and grips it in his own. Leo’s hand is lax, lifeless, and Neymar looks sadly at the contrast of their skin – he’d dreamed it beautiful, but both their skins are pale with the cold and there isn’t enough light, nothing but the flames behind their back to cast shadows on their bodies.

 

“I want to be with you,” he continues, because if he stops his mouth will become numb and he won’t be able to talk anymore. “I love you.”

 

He meets Leo’s eyes again and they’re raw, half-lidded but screaming something at him, something Neymar can’t catch.

 

“Don’t you have anything to say?” He leans forward, grips Leo’s hand a bit more desperately but he’s not even sure he feels it. “It hurts to love you. I just want to know, if you’ve ever loved me too.”

 

Leo keeps staring at him, intently, dark black eyes livelier than his body, and then his eyes dart around, desperately looking at the sky at Neymar at the flames at the snow.

 

“Say something,” Neymar insists, feels his voice crack. “Please. Just say something. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t get it.”

 

Leo looks sorry as he looks back at him and Neymar draws even closer, pushes himself on his elbows so his face can hover over Leo’s. “Use your words, please.”

 

Leo blinks, and nothing comes out of his blue lips, nothing more than the regular trail of blood. He hears something like a choked breath, like Leo is trying to say something but still no words and Neymar allows tears to run down his face.

 

“Don’t be cruel,” he says, watching his erratic eyes hide behind dropping eyelids. “This is unfair.” He leans down, finds Leo’s cold lips and press his mouth against them, tastes Leo’s blood on his tongue.

 

When he draws back, Leo’s eyes are closed.

 

He lets his elbows give out under him but he doesn’t let go of Leo’s hand, even though he’s starting not to feel his own fingers anymore.

 

He looks at the spectacle at their feet, at the plane going out in flames, thick smoke spreading into the sky and darkening the moon. Weird shadows are dancing on their skins and the blood looks blacker than it is red.

 

He lifts his head and puts it against Leo’s shoulder, listens to the silence, the absence of a beating heart under that flesh. He’d have liked to know if, even for a second, that heart had ever beat for him.

 

He closes his eyes.


	20. Lionel Messi/Neymar -  “Take. It. Off.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : _“Take. It. Off.”_
> 
> \--
> 
> Neymar fucked up big time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : mild violence, cheating

“Leo-”

 

“I told you to take it off!” Leo shouts. His face is contorted in anger and his eyes are ablaze with fury.

 

“Listen please-”

 

“Neymar, for the last time – Take. It. Off.”

 

Leo usually mumbles, his voice is quiet and low and soft. He doesn’t need to raise his voice to be heard, everyone always eager to listen. But he’s not quiet now. He’s not soft or faint. His voice fills the room, slams into its every corners, freezing Neymar’s blood and making his hands shake.

 

He has to repress a sob but he knows he can’t say no, he knows how this ends and it’s like driving towards a wall at full speed. He sees the end coming but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

 

His hands shake even as he takes his shirt off, tears running down his face. He doesn’t dare look up at Leo, feeling weak and vulnerable now that his chest is bare. He heard Leo’s intake of breath when he stripped off his shirt, and when he grows the courage to look at his face, it’s set in a mixture of pain and fury.

 

“I can’t believe it,” Leo says. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

 

“I’m so-”

 

“Of all people-- that _you_ ’d do that to me.” He grabs his hair, looks as distressed as Neymar has ever seen but when he makes a move, takes a step forward, Leo’s eyes snap to his face.

 

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” he roars.

 

“Leo,” Neymar’s voice breaks and his sight is blurred with tears. “Leo I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to, I never meant to-”

 

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant to do or not you-” Leo gestures at his body and his eyes spell nothing but disgust when they travel over his bare chest again, over his arms and neck. “Have you looked at yourself?” he hisses.

 

And Neymar has. He has, and he’s tried to hide it, borrowing his sister’s make up, wearing long-sleeved shirts, willing his heart to beat slower and telling himself he’d be fine, Leo would never find out, it had been a mistake and it would never happen again, he’d been drunk he’d never hurt Leo willingly, it didn’t mean anything, _god he’d fucked up he’d fucked up_.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Neymar cries, begs, pleads with his eyes but Leo isn’t looking at him, he’s blinded with rage.

 

“Get out,” Leo says. He’s breathing heavily, trying to keep a lid on his emotions so they don’t spill into his voice. His fists are closed, clenched so hard his knuckles are dangerously white. Neymar can see, the raw pain and the distress in his posture, in the tension of his shoulders, in his eyes, and it hurts, god it hurts so much.

 

“Please give me a chance-”

 

“I’m not cheap,” Leo spits. “You don’t get to fuck with me. _Get out_.”

 

But Neymar knows, if he leaves this room he’ll never get in ever again, and he can’t stand that thought. He makes a step forward, trying to reach Leo, his boyfriend, his lover, because there has got to be a way to make it all better.

 

He chokes, more out of surprise than pain, when Leo grabs his throat and hisses into his face.

 

“I told you to get the fuck out.”

 

Neymar is wide-eyed, disbelieving. This can’t be happening. He holds Leo’s wrist and Leo tightens his grip, cutting his breath.

 

“If you don’t leave by yourself,” his voice is low, restrained. “I’m going to hurt you Ney. You don’t get how much I want to hurt you right now so for fuck’s sake _get out_.”

 

He lets go of his throat and Neymar takes several steps back, wheezing and weeping. His chest constricts with pain and he’s shaking, he’s shivering, watching his life, his pretty, perfect little life crumbles upon itself and that’s his fault, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

 

 


End file.
